Soul Dreams (10 page)

“Same to you, Miss–
Nina
. Enjoy your dinner.”

After he left, she leaned against the closed door for a long moment, letting the little he’d told her race around in her brain. What could Blake Massie’s problem be? What was so bad he left his home and family?

Impulsively, she got her laptop and sat with it on the couch, in front of what was now a blazing fire.
Thank you, Grange
. She had no idea if Blake would even be at his computer—although Grange had mentioned he spent a lot of time there.

She clicked on the IM icon and waited for the box to open.

Booklady:
Thank you for the terrific dinner. I can’t wait to eat it.

The screen stared back at her for so long she figured he was away from his computer. She was about to shut down when the bell rang and his message popped up.

Blake:
Grange always makes too much anyway.

Booklady:
Well, I still appreciate it. Before she could stop herself she wrote, Too bad we can’t enjoy it together.

Blake:
Sounds nice, but I don’t entertain.

Booklady:
We could get to know each other better.

Silence.

Blake:
Then you might not want to chat with me any more.

She frowned.

Booklady:
Why, are you a criminal? Are you crazy?

Blake:
No!

She almost heard him shout the word.

Blake:
I mean, that’s not the problem.

Booklady:
Then what is it? Is there something wrong with me?

The message space sat empty for a long time again. Had she pushed him too far?

Blake:
Do you ever have unexplained dreams?

Dreams
?
Ohmigod
! For a moment she thought her heart stopped beating. Did he somehow know she was dreaming about him? No, not possible. She wiped suddenly damp palms on her thighs.

Booklady:
We all dream. Right?

More silence.

Blake:
I mean, special dreams. Never mind, forget what I said.

Forget it
?
Is he kidding
?

Booklady:
I have dreams.

She typed fast—before she could change her mind.

Booklady:
Maybe we could get together and talk about them?

What the hell was she doing? She’d sworn off men, didn’t she remember? But somehow, some way, Blake Massie reached into her closed-off heart. She sensed he’d suffered pain, too, maybe worse than hers. Besides, how much trouble could she get into with an entire Internet between them?

Blake:
Talking like this is fine. I like it.

Lord, he was even more antisocial than she was.

Booklady:
So what shall we talk about?

Pause.

Blake:
If I ask you something, you won’t get mad and disconnect, will you? Or stop bringing me my books?

Butterflies beat gently in her stomach, and an unexpected sense of anticipation rolled over her. Her most recent dream popped to the forefront of her mind, making her body heat and her pussy throb with need.
With need
?
Holy crap
!

Booklady:
Depends on what it is, but I don’t get offended by much.

Wait. Did she say it right
? Too late to change. She’d already sent it.

Blake:
Do you ever indulge in fantasies?

She stared at the screen, her mouth dry. Could he see into her mind? Hands trembling slightly she answered.

Booklady:
Sometimes. Do you?

Blake:
I think it’s something people who live alone might do.

Blake:
But lately my fantasies have been about you. That’s why I asked you about your dreams.

Nina jerked back and almost shoved the computer away from her. What should she say? Do? Shut him down?

No, no, no
, a little voice inside her protested.

Booklady:
Do you mean, are my dreams like fantasies?

Blake:
Yes. Personal.

Oh, God
! Before she could answer him he sent another message.

Blake: I dream about you. I see your picture on your website and pull you into my dreams.

Holy shit
! Was he obsessing about her? Cyberstalking her? No, Grange would have warned her. He would not have encouraged her to pursue even this limited relationship with him. For some strange reason, she trusted him.

Before she could stop herself, she typed.

Booklady:
I dream about you, too. Only I don’t have an image of you in my mind. I can only imagine it.

She swallowed hard and added….

Booklady:
Maybe next time I bring the books to you, I could come inside. I’ll even bring a bottle of wine.

Her entire body flushed with heat, her breasts aching, her cunt throbbing and wet. Could the reason be all this time without sex? No, this man definitely affected her. A lot. Would he accept her offer?

Blake:
How do you feel about games?

She froze.
Games
?

Booklady:
What kind of games do you mean?

Her excitement edged up with his words. Of course, she could say or do anything as long as it was all on the Internet.

Blake:
Have you ever been blindfolded?

His answer sent a thrill of forbidden pleasure racing through her. Immediately, the scenes from her fantasies slammed into her. Was he somehow in her head, her dreams? What should she answer?

Booklady:
Um, sort of.

Blake:
I don’t know what ‘sort of’ means. But if you want to come to my house, we’ll be playing a little game. Grange will have to blindfold you.

Good Lord
! Go to a stranger’s house and allow herself to be blindfolded? What did this man have in mind? And why was she so tempted? Of course, he wasn’t really a stranger. She’d been delivering his books for months now, and they’d been exchanging messages for several weeks. And of course, there were those dreams. Thinking of them made heat flush through her.

Before she could type an answer, another message appeared.

Blake:
I promise no harm will come to you. You have my word. You could pretend it’s part of a fantasy. Would that work for you?

Would it
? She reminded herself how far she had gotten trusting another man’s word.

But is happened five years ago. Go ahead. Take a chance. Live a little
.

Booklady:
Why can’t I see you?

Pause.

Blake:
Let’s get to know each other better first. Don’t you like surprises?

Booklady:
Only if they’re good ones.

Blake:
I hope this will be a good one.

Blake:
Will you give it a chance?

Nina chewed her thumbnail as emotions whirled within her. She was a little bit scared and a whole lot tempted. She had a feeling Grange would protect her if she’d misread the situation. She couldn’t tell anyone. They’d think for sure she’d lost her mind.

Do it
!
Take a chance, for God’s sake
, the little voice in her head shouted. Do you plan to live like this forever?

She typed her answer before she could change her mind.

Booklady:
When?

Blake:
Let’s not wait for the book delivery. How about tomorrow night?

Booklady:
Can’t. Big shopping day. The store will be open late.

Blake:
Then Saturday. Before I come to my senses and chase you away.

She could get on board with that sentiment.

Booklady:
Eight o’clock?

She waited for his answer, body tense.

Blake:
White wine.

She laughed.

Booklady:
I actually was going to bring you bourbon. I can’t imagine you as the wine type.

Blake:
Oh? What type do you think I am?

Booklady:
I guess I’ll find out.

Blake:
Saturday night at eight.

Booklady:
At eight.

Nina stared at the screen for a long time after he signed off. What on earth had she gotten herself into? Well, whatever happened, she’d finally decided it was better than feeling dead inside as she had for so long.

Chapter Five

Nina leaned her head back against the bath pillow and tried to relax. She’d closed the store promptly at six, hurrying the last minute shoppers as much as she could. Friday had been nonstop, and today almost as bad. Or good, depending on one’s point of view. But she was determined not to rush herself getting ready for tonight. For two days, she’d lived on the edge of anticipation. She hoped she wouldn’t be disappointed. Nor would he.

At the moment, she was soaking in a tub full of fragrant bubbles, wet hair piled on top of her head out of the way. The butterflies that had taken up residence in her stomach on Thanksgiving seemed to have acquired more friends, and their dance had become more frenetic. She hoped this wouldn’t turn out to be another Thanksgiving filled with hope only to crash and burn by Christmas. She didn’t think she could take it again. She closed her eyes, ordering her body to relax.

“You look especially beautiful tonight.” His gravelly voice stirred her blood as it always did.

“Thank you. Only I don’t have any clothes on.”

He laughed, a low husky sound. “But that’s how I like you best.” He kissed the silk scarf over her eyes. “This is all the clothing you need.”

“Will I ever get to see you?”

“When the time is right.”

It was the same answer he always gave her.

She was lying beneath him, his body caught on his forearms to keep his weight from her. She could feel his arms on either side of her. Reaching up, she touched the familiar texture of his beard, inhaled the familiar fragrance of sandalwood. She thought she could get drunk on the feel and scent of him alone.

His head moved, and in the next moment his warm lips closed over a taut nipple, tugging it into his mouth. Heat rushed straight to her pussy, already wet with her juices. She moved her hand over his powerful shoulders as he paid careful attention to her pebbled bud, finally moving to the other one. By the time he lifted his head from them, she was writhing against him, urging him to pay attention to her other parts.

She’d come to love being with him. His tenderness, his ability to carry her body to unbelievable heights—whether a fast hard ride or a slow sensual one. Until he came into her life, she’d been so closed off, unwilling to open herself to pain and disappointment again. But it hadn’t taken long for her to trust him, to believe him. To know he meant everything he said.

If only he’d let her see him.

He moved down her body, his tongue tracing a pattern lower and lower, making lazy swirls around her navel then down toward her the nest of her pubic curls. Her legs were spread wide open, his broad shoulders pressed against her inner thighs. He flicked the tip of his tongue over her clit, back and forth with light strokes making every nerve in her body jump and her cunt spasm with need. Even her skin was ultra-sensitive. When he blew on it, little tremors skated over the surface.

With his tongue, he drew a slow path the length of her slit, down and back, pausing at the top to tease her hot bundle of nerves again.

“Touch your breasts for me,” he rasped. “Let me see you pinch your nipples.”

She cupped her breasts in her palms and grasped each nipple between thumb and forefinger. As she gently squeezed, he thrust his tongue inside her, and she
—

Water sloshed over her face and filled her nose. Holy shit! She’d slipped down in the tub, submerged over her head, and she was holding her nipples. Her heart raced, and her pulse beat a rapid tattoo everywhere, especially in her pussy’s hot channel.

Oh
!
My
!
God
!

She let the water out of the tub and climbed out, wrapping herself in a bath towel. When she stared at herself in the mirror, her face was flushed, and she saw the flutter of her pulse at the hollow of her throat. For almost three weeks, she’d had the same dream every night, with slight variations. The problem was, she always woke herself up before reaching an orgasm. Before her lover’s cock was buried inside her. Before wrapping her legs around him and feeling him deep inside her body.

Are the dreams he mentions like mine
?

And if they were, who was the woman he dreamed about? Was it her? Did he have a lover he’d left behind in his self-imposed isolation?

Enough with this. Why don’t I hit the Off switch for my mind and get ready
?

Obviously, she couldn’t go to Blake Massie’s house in the shape she was in. He’d take one look at her and know exactly what she’d been doing. She turned on the shower full force and stepped beneath the spray, running the water cold enough to freeze all her body parts at first then warmer, so she could wash her hair.

The bottle of wine she’d chosen sat in her fridge, chilling. She hoped the festive bow she’d placed on it wasn’t too much. But she had the feeling she was about to change her holiday season, and a little festivity might not be too bad.

Not too bad at all.

***

What am I doing
?
I must be crazy
.

Blake sat in the big chair in his bedroom, replaying the Instant Messages in his mind. He checked his watch for possibly the hundredth time. Seven o’clock. The day had dragged by as if it had forty-eight hours in it. At least once every hour he started to send Nina a message to cancel the entire business. Tell her he was sorry, he’d made a mistake.

But each time he’d talked himself out of it. He’d come this far. If it did end up being a mistake, he could email her his orders in the future, and she could keep delivering them to Grange as usual. Only, for the first time in two years, he had an actual desire to interact with another human being. And not just anyone, but a classically sexy woman who intrigued him beyond imagination.